


Seven Days in Paradise

by smallerluke



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Family Dynamics, Fluff, Gabriel adopts everyone, Jack is an awkward but well meaning stepdad, M/M, Other, Pre-Canon, Team as Family, Vacation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-22 21:05:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8300992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallerluke/pseuds/smallerluke
Summary: Sometimes when the going gets tough, the tough go on vacation.
One boyfriend. Three vastly different young adults. Seven Days.
What could go wrong?





	1. Let's Go Away for a While

**Author's Note:**

> AN: This fic is on hiatus for the foreseeable future. I WILL finish it, I've just bitten off more than I can chew with trying to write this and FS at the same time. Thank you for reading and I hope to return to this story in 2017!

“Jack, if you keep that up, we’re going to miss our flight.”

Gabriel didn’t need to lower the paper to know that Jack was still busy rifling through their suitcases. As it stood, the day’s headlines were more interesting than Jack’s inventory count. _Mayhem in Madrid - Escaped Pigs Cause Traffic Nightmare_. He finished off his coffee and set it down, a little loudly, hoping the noise would spark Jack’s attention.

He was still bowed over, tearing socks and shirts out of Gabriel’s suitcase. A rolled-up pair of boxers flew past his face and hit the refrigerator.

“Jack.” Gabriel set the paper down and lifted his wrist to check the time. They were cutting it awfully close. “I told you, no surprises this year. Consider it safe.”

Jack lifted his head from the suitcase with a huff, his mouth turned up in a pout. “That’s _exactly_ what you told me last year. And the year before that. And—”

Gabriel rolled his eyes.

Jack bent to collect Gabriel’s things, tossing them over his shoulder into the ravaged suitcase. Gabriel caught him with an arm around his waist when he got close, and Jack responded with an indignant sigh. “Relax, Jack. We always have fun, don’t we?”

Jack twisted around in his arm, smiling a little, but he kept his eyes trained on the mess on their bed. “Yeah, we do,” he sighed. “Maybe we should stay this year. Ana’s not going to be back from China until the 17th. You really think Reinhardt and Torbjörn can handle command?”

“For a week? I’m not terribly concerned.” Gabriel tucked a hand under Jack’s chin and dragged him down for a soft kiss. Jack was stiff against him, which meant that he was still worrying about Gabriel’s usual birthday pranks. He chuckled against Jack’s lips. “Alright, you’ve got ten minutes to clean up this mess, and we’re leaving.”

He picked up the paper and finished off the article and a few other equally ridiculous titles before Jack dropped their suitcases down in the kitchen, panting hard like he’d run a marathon. “Okay,” he said, “I’m ready. You got your passport?”

“Of course.”

“Prescription?”

“Yup.”

“You got something good to read on the flight?”

Gabriel set the paper down. “C’mon, Jack.”

“I’m just checking,” Jack mumbled. He pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and squinted at it. “Hey, have you seen my glasses?”

Gabriel hummed under his breath. “You should get contacts.”

“They itch.”

He lumbered to his feet to clean the dishes off the table while Jack roamed their room, muttering under his breath. It was the same song and dance year after year, and it was a little cute. Jack, always flustered, trying to plan their vacation like he tried to plan everything else: down to the letter. Gabriel never gave him any details, which annoyed him to no end. Everything was in place: the flight, security measures, accommodations. Gabriel had finished the paperwork two weeks ago. Jack’s last-minute panic was _just_ like him.

He picked up their suitcases and gestured to Jack with a nod of his head. “You coming?”

“I can’t find them.”

“Come here, Sunshine”

Jack lifted his head from the kitchen drawers—why he was looking there was anyone’s guess—and leveled a full glare at Gabriel. “I can’t leave without them,” he said, “And no, I can’t just buy a pair of reading glasses at a pharmacy when we get there. They’re not strong enough.”

Gabriel leaned in close to Jack’s cheek and pressed a lingering kiss there. “I’m sure they’ll show up.”

“Don’t distract me, Gabriel.”

Gabriel chased Jack, peppering kisses down his jaw until he found his lips. Jack sighed into the kiss and relaxed against him, hands moving up to cup Gabriel’s jaw. Gabriel tipped his head to get a better angle, and Jack’s hands worked up towards his hair, then stopped cold.

Jack pulled away, squinting hard at Gabriel. Slowly, he tugged his glasses from Gabriel’s ears. “You asshole.”

He gave Jack another kiss for good measure. “Love you too.”

They gathered their suitcases and rushed down the hall, Jack yammering on about his goddamn list, until they were out on the street where Bachmann had the car parked.

“I hope I packed right,” Jack huffed, “Warm or cold?”

“It’s no fun if I tell you. Besides, we don’t have time to repack. Guess you’ll just have to trust me.”

Gabriel threw their cases in the back. Jack couldn’t help himself from unzipping his and checking to make sure—for the third time—that his favorite sweater was packed. Gabriel put his hands around Jack’s waist and walked him to the back door of the car. “Ready?”

“I guess,” Jack sighed.

Gabriel opened the door.

“Howdy!”

Jack pushed it shut right in Jesse’s face and spun on Gabriel so fast that he had to take a step back. “I’m sorry, I must have heard you wrong earlier. No surprises this year!”

Gabriel leveled his best smile at Jack, which only made his boyfriend’s frown deepen.

“I kinda figured the whole point of _leaving_ was to get away? Just the two of us?” Jack glanced back at the car. Jesse had his nose squished up against the window, cheeks blown out and pressed against the glass. Twenty-one years old and still the same ham he’d picked up in New Mexico. “He’s making a mess.”

“Family never gets left behind, Jack.” Gabriel opened the door. Jesse almost tumbled out face-first. “Hey, Jesse, didn’t see your suitcase in the back.”

“I’ve got everythin’ I need right here,” Jesse said, patting a bag sitting on the back seat. He poked his head out the door and let out a low whistle. Scout returned with a bark, bounding across the grounds.

Jack’s mood brightened whenever there was a dog in the picture. He bent down to give Scout a good scratch behind the ears. “You, uh, caught me a little off guard, Jesse,” he mumbled, “Is, uh—Scout coming?”

“Yessir.”

“Where’s Angela?” Gabriel folded his arm over the back of the car.

“Angela?” Jack repeated.

As if on cue, Angela barreled out of the doors, one arm laden with suitcases, the other lifted to flag them down. She was flushed red, like she’d sprinted down the hall. “Oh! Forgive me, I’m late!” she called out. Angela nearly tripped over her own feet, and Fareeha appeared out of nowhere to grab her by the back of her shirt.

“Hey, Uncles!” Fareeha called out, “Let’s hit the road!”

Gabriel felt Jack tug at his sleeve. “Gabriel Reyes, what is the meaning of this?”

“Didn’t you hear me? Family never gets left behind.”

-

Gabriel never particularly cared for flying. There was never enough room to stretch out, and nowhere to go when a particular Strike Commander wouldn’t stop fidgeting in his seat, throwing elbows into Gabriel’s ribs.

Jack was rifling through his carry-on, his glasses slipping down his nose. Cute as hell. Gabriel grinned at him, and across the aisle Fareeha made a face of disgust. He stuck out his tongue at her, and her scowl turned into a smile.

She’d just turned sixteen, and was itching to see the world. How could he have said no?

Maybe the idea had snowballed out of control. He was so used to having Jesse at his side that a week away would feel like an eternity. Who else would sass him? And Angela—the poor girl was always locked in her office, running on energy drinks and not much else. She needed a break, too.

It would be fun. The three of them were certainly capable of entertaining themselves, if Jack was concerned about spending time alone. Gabriel smiled at the idea. It was tough for Jack to relax on a good day. Time away would be good for him.

For _them_.

Jack had his phone out, tapping rapidly at the keys. Gabriel reached over to take his hand. “Don’t bother Ana. She’ll be sleeping.”

“But—”

“Tell Jack not to bother your mother,” he said, winking at Fareeha.

Fareeha gave a solid, solemn nod. “Bother Uncle Rein instead. He’s probably more worried than she is.”

Gabriel let his eyes swing away. It sounded vile, mean, but Gabriel knew that it was true—Reinhardt loved the kid like she was his, and worried about her like she was still ten years old, while Ana trusted her to take care of herself. Jack started swiping through his contacts, following the command like a robot.

Gabriel closed his fingers around the phone and Jack’s hand. “I thought we agreed you’d leave work behind?”

“We haven’t landed yet.”

“But we’ve _left_.”

Jesse and Angela were watching them like hawks. Jesse knew all too well. Angela couldn’t, but seemed ready to get down to the edge of their exchange. Clearing his throat, lowering his voice to a whisper, he said, “We talked about this.”

Jack returned with _that_ look. Gabriel crossed his arms over his chest and decided to mind his own business, ignoring Jack as he typed out message after message.

-

They arrived in Key West around noon, local time. The long flight had all but sapped the energy out of Gabriel, but Jesse and Fareeha were alive and bright-eyed the second they stepped off the plane.

There wasn’t much to the airport. Gabriel helped the crew with the baggage. Their guards had landed a few hours before to sweep for explosives and terrorists—routine stuff, really—and gave them the all-clear. Angela trailed behind them to the car, her nose stuck in a portfolio, Scout dutifully watching her six.

“Florida?” Jack glanced around them, at the lush palms and ferns, the endless blue sky, the green-tinted ocean. “It’s hurricane season, Gabriel.”

“We’ve been here five minutes and you’re already complaining?” Gabriel couldn’t keep the edge out of his voice. All the trouble he’d gone to—on his own, very _rare_ , free time—and Jack was upset with him before they’d even arrived. Thank God he’d brought the crew along, otherwise—

Gabriel swallowed his anger like a pill and leveled a smooth smile at Jack, who looked disgusted and shamed by his outburst. “I rented a nice cottage on the beach. You’ll love it.”

Jack jerked his chin away, eyes cast out over the ocean.

The ride was long, but not awkward, thanks to the jubilation shared between Jesse and Fareeha. Angela still had her nose in that portfolio. Probably working. Gabriel leaned over to her seat and hooked a finger over the book. “Earth to Angela,” he said, “Check out the ocean, kiddo.”

She blinked hard, like she hadn’t heard him at all, before glancing out the window. “Oh! It’s quite lovely,” she said, “You know, I’ve read so much about the wildlife here. It all sounds quite outlandish.” She covered her mouth with a hand. “Have you ever seen a manatee?”

“Can’t say I have.”

Angela took that as an invitation to give them all a lesson. Gabriel zoned out and focused on the rolling scenery. It was quite a beautiful place, despite it being October, but then again, seasons didn’t really touch the state. He couldn’t wait to get his ass into a pair of swim trunks and a fruity drink into his hands. Jack could stick to being grouchy if he wanted, Gabriel was going to have _fun._

-

The cabin was smaller than he’d imagined, but it was painted a lively yellow. Jesse ran up the steps with Scout on his heel, leaving Fareeha and Angela to help him carry in luggage. Jack leaned against the hood of the car, swiping through his phone, talking in low tones to one of the bodyguards.

Gabriel stepped over the threshold. It was decorated in a typical cottage style, a few decades out of date, but fresh and clean. More than enough space for the five of them. The view from the living room was breathtaking. Fareeha popped up at his side.

“This place is sweet,” she said, “Where’s my room?”

Gabriel gestured for her and Angela to follow him. Angela was struggling with her array of suitcases, so he took them on his arm. “I think you two are upstairs,” he said. “Don’t worry, that room’s got a double vanity.”

“Wait.” Fareeha darted in front of him, eyes sliding between him and Angela. “We have to share a room?”

Angela scoffed. “Would you rather share a room with Scout?”

“Yes!” Fareeha whined.

Gabriel dumped their suitcases in the room and bailed out on that conversation before he got dragged into a fight. He could hear them from the kitchen, where Jesse was searching through empty cabinets.

“Ah, don’t mind me, Pops,” Jesse said, “I’m just starvin’.”

“We’ll go for lunch, as soon as—where the hell is Jack?” Gabriel craned his neck to glance at the front door. Sure enough, there he was, talking to someone on his phone.

Jesse hopped onto the kitchen island, one foot kicking out to toe Gabriel in the ribs. “Want me to get rid of it?”

“What?”

“The phone, Pops.”

Gabriel sighed. “The phone isn’t the problem, Jesse.”

“Nah, the problem is that I’m hungry. Can we find a crab shack?” He made a show of licking his lips. “Hey, you think restaurants ‘round here are pet friendly?” He whistled for Scout. The dog came down the stairs with a clatter of nails and parked herself on Gabriel’s feet.

He patted her behind the ears. Scout angled her head, clearly enjoying the attention. “You need help setting her stuff up?”

“Sure, Pops.”

As it turned out, Jesse’s backpack was filled with Scout’s things, and he’d only packed a pair of pajamas. Gabriel chided him as they set out her blanket in the kitchen—pointless, she always slept on Jesse’s bed—filled her dishes, and hung up her leash by the back door. Angela and Fareeha came down the stairs before Jack finally came in the door, staring at his phone like it had offended him. Angela had her portfolio spread out between her hands.

“I was thinking we could kick off our trip with something light,” she said, flipping through pages, “This restaurant has a four-star rating and has—”

“Crab shack!” Jesse hooted.

“Yeah!” Fareeha smacked the portfolio out of Angela’s hands. “Crab shack!”

Gabriel rescued Angela’s portfolio—it wasn’t work at all, but what looked like a day planner—and calmed the three of them. “Fine. You guys get ready and be back in five, okay?”

They scrambled for their rooms, Fareeha and Angela colliding and hurling insults at each other as they thundered up the stairs.

Jack leaned against the counter. He glanced around the kitchen, eyes narrow behind his glasses. “This is, uh, a nice place.”

“Yeah, figured you’d like it.”

Jack lowered his chin to stare at the floor. Gabriel could practically see the gears in his head turning, and stepped close enough to reach for Jack’s hand. He flinched away, and Gabriel let his hand fall back to his side. Jack clearly wasn’t in the mood.

“You got a migraine?”

“Starting,” Jack ground out. “Called back to base—”

“Jack.”

Jack huffed, arms sliding to cross over his chest. “—I called and Reinhardt sounded…suspicious.”

“We’ve been gone for a few hours, Jack. The world isn’t gonna fall apart without you. Let me get you an aspirin.”

-

Jesse’s suggestion for lunch was a goddamn mess if Gabriel had ever seen one. He was inclined to take Angela’s side on that one—copious amounts of seafood _probably_ wouldn’t mix well with jet lag—and watching Jesse attempt to crack crab legs was, frankly, disgusting. Fareeha mimicked his movements, which Ana would have found delightful, were she present. Gabriel snuck out his phone to record a clip of the two of them.

After lunch they went back to the cottage to fetch Scout and went for a walk down the beach. It was relatively quiet, probably thanks to it being October, but the sun was pleasant and the sand felt good under his feet. Angela had a big, wide-brimmed straw hat on, and Jesse was making good on his promise to steal it from her. Jack wandered ahead with the dog on his heel, phone still in his hand like it was a permanent feature.

Fareeha bounded through the sand at his side, grinning from ear to ear, black hair shining under the sun. He showed her the clip on his phone, and she laughed brightly, pulling at his arm.

“Mom’s gonna love that,” she said, “Hey, Uncle Gabo, while we’re stateside—”

“Don’t get any ideas. Jack’s the fun uncle.”

Fareeha snorted. “Very funny. Jesse had this idea that we could—oh, no.”

Angela ran across the beach toward them. She had carried that goddamn portfolio with her to the restaurant, and spread it out between her hands, losing sheets of paper on the wind. “Commander Reyes,” she huffed, “We absolutely _must_ book a cruise to see the sunset!”

“No way,” Fareeha whined, “I wanna go to the arcade.”

“The arcade? But you can play games anywhere,” Angela argued, “I’ve seen pictures, and the sunsets here on the ocean are simply divine!”

“Jesse wants to go to the arcade too, so you’re outvoted.” Fareeha stuck out her tongue. Angela was starting to turn pink. Gabriel tried to hold back on a laugh. “Wouldn’t you rather play games, Uncle Gabo?”

He lifted his hands in surrender. “Hey, leave me out of this.”

Angela snapped the portfolio to her chest, rocked back on her heels, and inhaled sharply, like she was ready to dish out a lecture. “I spent the last week finding all the fun and educational things to do here and we can’t fit everything in unless we start right now! Commander Reyes, surely you agree.”

“You can call me Gabriel, or Reyes,” he chuckled, “Let me see your book, Angela.”

“What? Why?” Angela lowered her chin, glaring up at him. “If we’re going to take a sunset cruise we have to book _now_ , or we’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

He smiled, and Angela slowly handed the binder over, before ducking her head down so he couldn’t see her face under the brim of her hat.

Angela could have put a professional scrapbooker to shame. “You put this together in a week?”

“Yes,” Angela puffed, “And—”

“You’ve—you’ve booked something for…” Gabriel flipped through the pages. They were blocked solid, every precious hour accounted for, from dusk until dawn. “Angela, this was very sweet of you, really, but not everything in life can be planned down to the letter.”

“What do you mean? Of course it can.” Angela snatched the book back with a huff. Jesse came running down the beach, snatched Angela’s hat, and ran off with a hoot toward the ocean. Angela stood stock still, her face slowly turning red.

“Oh, it’s on!” Fareeha screeched, “Get him, Ang!”

“Jesse, you get back here this instant!” Angela took off like a rocket, her portfolio landing softly in the sand by Gabriel’s feet.

Jesse waded into the water to escape, fully clothed. Gabriel raked a hand down his face.

“What is it, Uncle Gabo?”

“Jesse only brought one pair of clothes,” he grunted, “Guess we’re going shopping sooner rather than later.”

Fareeha took off down the beach to kick sand at Angela and Jesse. Angela was trying to swipe the hat from Jesse without stepping foot in the ocean, and Fareeha was doing her best to distract and annoy both of them. Gabriel caught Jack’s silhouette down the beach, dog still faithfully at his heels.

-

It was all _very_ loud. Gabriel sat at the kitchen island, entertaining Angela's further requests for feedback on her plans, while she and Fareeha squalled over their sleeping arrangements. Jesse, bless his heart, offered to solve the problem by switching rooms with Angela, but Jack intercepted by whispering in his ear they'd be up all night watching movies and making noise. Gabriel knew for a fact that they'd be up watching movies and making noise regardless of where they slept, but in the end it was decided that Jesse and Angela would share the room. The whole thing was giving him a headache. He could only imagine how Jack felt.

Gabriel took Jesse and Fareeha down to the closest department store. Exhaustion dragged at his limbs as he pulled himself through the aisles, leaning hard on a cart, as Jesse made a mess of the men's section.

"Ain't enough plaid," he complained, "And where the hell do you think I could find a serape around here?"

"When in Rome." Gabriel lifted a tacky, pastel bowler shirt decorated with a motif of fishing boats from the rack and held it up to his shoulders. "Hm? What do you think? Suits me, no?"

Fareeha hid a laugh behind her hand. "Uncle Gabo, I envy your fashion sense.”

Jesse wandered off through the aisles, chucking clothes left and right and making a complete embarrassment of himself.

"Check these out!" Fareeha swished a pair of ugly, brown leather sandals off a rack. She tossed them right into the cart. Gabriel checked the size before giving his approval. "Now. Shades!" She stuck a pair of big pink sunglasses onto his nose. Standing back, she thumbed at her chin. "I think Uncle Jack needs a matching pair."

"You know he won't wear them," Gabriel countered.

"That's because he's a grumpy old man," Fareeha snorted. "But I'll find him something cool anyway, because I happen to like him all the same."

Gabriel patted her on the head and ruffled her hair. She was far too old for the gesture, but grinned all the same. "You're a good egg, Fareeha."

Jesse stuck his head out from behind a rack of terrible floral shirts. "What do ya think?"

He stepped out, arms spread wide, revealing the most... _normal_ outfit Gabriel had ever seen him in. Pressed chinos, a white t-shirt, a long-sleeved blue sweater.

"Are you...are you wearing a _cardigan_?" Gabriel clapped a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. "Oh my God, Jesse, you look like you came right out of the suburbs."

"Yeah!" Fareeha chirped, "You look like some rich kid in a made-for-TV movie. Oh, woe is me, this small town cannot hold me!" She pressed a hand to her forehead, as dramatic as ever, then broke down in a fit of giggles. “Oh my God, I can’t even _look_ at you.”

Jesse paled, his grin fading. "Aw, come on, don't laugh. There ain't nothin' else here."

Fareeha wrinkled her nose. "You two have fun playing dress-up. I'm gonna see what kind of weird American candy they have."

Jesse wilted in his get-up, lip jutting out in a pout. "Come on, Pops, do I really look that bad?"

"You don't look like _you_. Come on, it's close to Halloween, surely we can find something more suitable."

"I have half a mind to be offended."

"You're the one who dresses like a cowboy."

-

Gabriel adjusted his straw hat—whether it was a trilby or a fedora was up for debate, but he looked equally ridiculous either way— and smoothed hands down his floral shirt. Jack and Angela were supposed to meet them at the arcade after sundown, but only one showed up, much to Fareeha's disappointment. Gabriel clapped a hand down on Angela's shoulder and guided her into the arcade, despite her protests and ramblings about the local history she was missing out on.

"Come on, Angela," he said, "Didn't you ever play games when you were a kid?"

She stiffened under his hand and shook her head rigidly. Jesse and Fareeha ran through the loud, flashing room, already over-excited and screaming about the prospect of winning the terrible, tacky toys in glass cases.

"No," Angela said, "I didn't have time outside of school, dance lessons, swimming lessons, piano lessons, volunteer work..."

Gabriel zoned out as Angela rambled on. _Yikes_.

"Hey, Uncle," Fareeha called out, "Come play skee ball with us!"

Angela huffed. "What is that?"

"Come on, you'll love it."

The noise and flash of the games dragged him right back into his childhood, when he and the neighborhood kids would hop on their bikes and coast down to the nearest arcade, their pockets full of change. Jesse was terrible at skee ball, but Fareeha was excellent, and her machine kept spitting out tickets until they were making a mess on the floor. Angela studied Fareeha and tried to copy her, and leapt into the air when she finally got points.

Gabriel wandered back to lean against an unloved Street Fighter station and snapped a few pictures to send to Ana, who'd be up and busy working in China.

 _They look like they're having fun_ , she replied, _Where's that cute husband of yours_?

 _Migraine_.

Ana sent back a picture of her rolling her eyes. Gabriel snorted and snapped a picture of himself, tacky sunglasses and terrible hat.

_That's a good look on you!_

Jesse ambled over, a handful of tickets squished in his hand. "Hey, Pops, wanna shoot some ducks?"

"Get over here."

Gabriel dragged Jesse into his armpit and snapped another pic of the two of them. Jesse's eyes were half-closed, his mouth open a little with surprise. They looked ridiculous.

"Aww, man, you could have warned me."

"Ana will love it. Now scram." Gabriel tucked his phone away and leaned back against the game machine.

Jesse rocked back and forth on his heels, staring at him expectantly.

"What?"

"I'm all out of money."

"You forget your wallet?"

Jesse scratched at the back of his head. "Might've."

Gabriel reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. "You remembered your passport and your dog's things, but forgot everything else? Jesse McCree, you're a mess."

Jesse scowled at him, but he couldn't keep the expression steady, and cracked a grin. "I sure am, Pops."

"Geez, how could I say no to that face?" Gabriel forked over a few crisp green bills. "Make it last, okay?"

"Would you look at that." Jesse snatched for Gabriel's wallet. "You keep pictures in this thing?"

"Don't start with me."

"Nah, I ain't startin' nothin'. I think it's cute." Jesse flipped the pictures down. They fell out, accordion style. "These are old as hell. Look how scrawny I am." Jesse slipped out a photograph from their first Christmas party. He had his arm around Jesse's shoulders. "You carry this ‘round with you?"

Gabriel plucked it from Jesse's fingers. "Need a photo of you to show people when you go missing."

"Yeah, sure." Jesse rifled through the rest, humming under his breath.

He had pictures of his family, of course, a picture of him and his childhood friends at the boardwalk, and a picture of him, Jack, and Ana, looking stern and solemn for a joke. It managed to crack him up every time. More recent additions included a blurry photograph of Fareeha drenching Jesse with a hose at Reinhardt's summer-end barbeque, and a snapshot of him and Jack dancing that Ana had caught on her phone.

Jesse slid the photos back into their places one by one. "You're old as hell, Pops."

"Yeah, yeah." He pulled Jesse's hat down over his eyes and gave him a light push on the shoulder. "Go have fun, kid. I'll shoot ducks with you in a minute, okay?"

"Sure."

He pulled out his favorite photo. They were so young, fresh-faced and bright-eyed, Jack towering over him, a goofy, shy smile on his face.

He tucked the photo back into his wallet and wound through the arcade. Jesse was easy to find; he was bargaining at the counter for a prize next to Fareeha, who dumped an armload of tickets down and pointed at a massive stuffed flamingo. Jesse stole it from her a second later, and they were off on a chase, Fareeha throwing insults and Jesse hooting with laughter.

He snapped a picture of that, too. It would go in his wallet.

-

Jack was asleep when he got back, even though it wasn’t long after sundown. He was sprawled out on his back, his glasses halfway down his nose, his hand loosely clutching his phone to his chest. Gabriel let out a little sigh as he rounded the bed. Scout was curled up by his side, and got up to give him a nuzzle before taking off down the hall.

More and more often, Jack only looked peaceful when he was asleep. Gabriel gently pulled the phone from his hand—he had been composing a _very_ long message to Torbjörn—and set it on the nightstand. The glasses came next. He folded them down beside Jack’s prescription, where he always left them.

He pulled up the blankets, grazed fingers over Jack’s chest, hummed under his breath.

Thirty-eight, and it was starting to show. Gray edged at his temples. Jack was sure his hairline was receding, but Gabriel couldn’t see the difference. He lightly traced the worry lines on Jack’s brow, before leaning in to press a kiss there. Turning off the light, he left Jack in the dark. He needed the rest.

Downstairs, Angela was surfing through channels, ignoring Jesse and Fareeha’s suggestions. Gabriel grabbed two cigars from where he’d stuffed them in the kitchen and motioned to Jesse before walking out onto the patio.

The moon was bright and silvery against a dark sky. The shadowed silhouettes of palm trees rustled in the wind. He sat down in a chair by the pool and waited, a cigar held out, until Jesse came through the back door and settled next to him.

They weren’t supposed to smoke, and Angela would give them a lecture for it, but Gabriel couldn’t care as he lit his and puffed smoke out into the cool, salty air.

“No scotch?”

“Forgot,” Gabriel said.

Jesse puffed rings of smoke into the air. “Guess this’ll do. Y’know, I’ve been thinking.”

“Yeah?”

“Probably a good club on this island.”

Gabriel laughed around his cigar, choked on the smoke, and coughed. “No way, Jesse,” he wheezed, “I’m not picking you up drunk from a bar.”

“You could come.”

“I’m too old for that.”

“Nah.” Jesse kicked his feet up and lounged back, puffing out smoke. “Come on, don’t tell me you didn’t do that when you were younger.”

“When I was your age I was fighting a war,” Gabriel snorted. “Why don’t you take Angela?”

Jesse stiffened. “I don’t think she’d be interested.”

“Ask.”

“Aww, come on, Pops.”

Gabriel settled back, arms folded behind his head, and stared out past the fence and the low, rustling ferns to the ocean. The water shone under the moon. Breathtaking, really.

“How long’s it been?”

“Hm?”

“Y’know. Since—” Jesse shrugged loosely, pulling the cigar from his mouth. “—you and Commander Baby Blues—”

“Stop right there.” Gabriel ran his thumb along the brim of his straw hat and gave Jesse the finger.

Jesse was quiet for a long moment. From inside Gabriel could hear the holoscreen, Angela cursing, and Fareeha laughing. Jack would be able to sleep through it.

“I’m real sorry about your luck.” Jesse finally managed.

“My romantic life isn’t any of your business, Jesse.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Jesse snuffed out the stub of his cigar on the patio stones. “I was just wonderin’.”

“Take your wonder elsewhere.”

Jesse laughed low under his breath. Gabriel finished his cigar and followed Jesse’s example, rubbing it out on the ground.

It felt nice to get away from Switzerland, from _Europe_ , to stand in his home country and feel at place walking down the streets, familiar with every model of car and the different brand-name stores. It felt good to hear casual Spanish in the crowds. It wasn't Los Angeles, but it was nice. Gabriel laid back in the chair, the earthy taste of the cigar on his tongue, staring up at the shaking palm trees.

“Y’know,” Jesse said, “I ain’t never been on a vacation before.”

“What, our trips around the world don’t count?”

He shook his head. “This means a lot to me, Pops.”

“Don’t get sappy on me.”

Jesse fidgeted in his seat. “Well, maybe I ought to say it,” he muttered, “Seein’ as no one else would have done what you did for me.”

“You don’t know that,” Gabriel deflected.

“I sure as hell do,” Jesse growled. “I hope I’m half the man you are, someday.”

Gabriel pulled his hat low over his eyes. His heart gave a quick, hard squeeze. “Come on, Jesse.”

Jesse sighed. “This is a real nice place. Quiet.”

“Thought you didn’t like the quiet?”

“It’s somethin’ different. Sometimes that’s nice.”

The wind gave a gentle sigh, and Gabriel realized that it had grown quiet inside the house. He glanced over his shoulder. Fareeha and Angela were on the couch, sharing a bowl of popcorn, managing not to sass each other. At least for the moment.

“Can I ask you a question, Pops?”

“When have you ever needed permission?”

“Why’d you and Jack never get hitched?”

Gabriel blinked away his surprise. Tilting his head, he stared hard into Jesse’s eyes. The wind sighed against the gate, and the latch creaked. Gabriel’s mind was clean. Clear. An answer danced away from the tip of his tongue, lost with the lull of the night air.

“It’s been a long day.” Gabriel hauled himself to his feet, patted a hand down on Jesse’s hat, and made a beeline for the back door. “See you in the morning, kid. I’m making waffles.”

“Sure, Pops.”

He said goodnight to Fareeha and Angela, begging them to keep it down—Angela made a sincere promise, but Fareeha just stuck her tongue out at him—and wandered up the stairs.

He worked open the windows before moving to change into his pajamas. The sheets were cool against his skin. Gabriel fell back on the pillow, his head churning with things that were better left alone. He let his head roll toward Jack, and watched his chest rise and fall with slow, sound breaths.

Still his Jack. Still the bright-eyed Farm Boy he’d met two decades ago, with a slow, awkward smile and a laugh that sounded like sunshine, if it ever had a sound. Still the only person he wanted to wake up next to, even if they fought more often than they kissed, even if their time together was always cut short or interrupted. Still his Jack, just the circumstances had changed.

The sheets rustled. Gabriel felt a hand nudge against his arm, and opened his eyes. Jack squinted back at him, half-asleep, blinking slowly.

Jack pulled himself across the bed, and Gabriel opened his arms to let him in. Jack pressed his head into his chest, inhaling deeply. Warm hands curled around Gabriel’s back. “You smell good.”

"You missed out on a great Cuban cigar."

Jack laughed softly against his chest. "I'm not supposed to smoke."

“Feeling better, Sunshine?”

He felt Jack nod.

Gabriel pulled him tighter, running his hand into soft hair before settling with his palm spread out against Jack’s bicep.

Still his Jack.


	2. Wouldn't It Be Nice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Vomiting, caps lock

Jack’s watch alarm started wailing at 0530h. Gabriel groaned as Jack rustled against him to wiggle out from under his nest of blankets, receiving the usual morning kicks and elbows until Jack’s smacks finally hit the offending timepiece.

“Why’d you bother to set it?” Gabriel grumbled. “It’s too early.”

He tugged the sheets away. Jack blinked at him from his fortress. “That’s a good question. I feel like…” Jack nestled his face back into the pillow. “…I hate jet lag,” he mumbled, “But I should go for a run.”

“You should go easy on yourself.” Gabriel pulled the blankets off the bed and Jack whined, curling up on himself in protest. He was used to making it neatly every morning, only for Jack to ruin it later. Gabriel rolled onto his side and swept a palm over Jack’s back, sliding under his t-shirt. “How about instead of going for a jog we make coffee and come back to bed, like we used to?”

Jack’s back vibrated with a hum. “Tempting,” he sighed, “I’m starving, actually. Breakfast?”

Gabriel slid close to the heat of Jack’s body, pressing light kisses to the back of his neck. “I promised the kids waffles.”

“They’re not kids.” His eyes fluttered closed. “Alright. Five more minutes.”

Gabriel leaned down to press a kiss to Jack’s cheek before sliding out of bed. Like most mornings, he was able to shower, trim his beard, and get dressed before Jack was awake. Once it had been the opposite; bright-eyed Jack poking and prodding him awake, chasing him with kisses he was too tired to return. The stress of command weighed heavier on Jack.

He pulled some of the new clothes he’d bought for Jack out of a bag and tossed them on the bed. “For you, Blondie.”

“What?” Jack lifted a bright pink t-shirt from the pile. “Is this Angela’s?”

“Nope. It’s yours. New.”

“Looks a little small,” Jack muttered.

He grumbled his way into the bathroom and Gabriel set out to remake their bed. Jack was both a blanket hog and a human burrito. The sheets always wound up twisted into a mess that took ages to untangle.

He crept down the hall when it was done, quiet in the still morning hours. Downstairs Fareeha was awake and pacing in front of the back door, wearing sweatpants and a cotton shirt. “Morning, Uncle Gabo.”

“You joining Jack for a run?”

“Yup,” she said, “He’s late.”

“He’s tired.”

Fareeha flopped down on the couch, throwing her legs over the arm and dangling her running shoes. She hadn’t bothered to tie the laces. “Gotta stay in shape,” she said, “I’ll be in basic before I know it.”

“Careful.” Gabriel clicked his tongue and made a show of glancing around the room, as if Ana would be able to sense their topic of conversation from the other side of the planet. “That’s dangerous talk.”

Fareeha threw her head back, sweeping the floor with her short black hair. “Uncle Jack doesn’t think it’s a bad idea.”

“Yeah, well, Uncle Jack also thinks that Elvis is still alive and aliens built the pyramids.”

“What? I do not.” Jack poked his head around the wall, squinting behind his glasses. “Oh, you’re already up, Fareeha?”

“Been waiting on you, grandpa.”

“You two go. Have fun. I’ll start working on breakfast.”

The patio door slammed shut behind them. Gabriel watched them from the kitchen window, a spot of pink and a spot of gray, until they disappeared around the curve of the beach.

“Alright. Up and at ‘er.” Jesse yawned. He sauntered into the kitchen in his pajamas, his hair a ruffled mess, the dog on his heels. He let her out back before collapsing on the kitchen island. “Time for waffles, Pops,” he mumbled, “You promised.”

“You gonna help?”

“You’re so demanding, old man.”

Jesse was a walking hazard in the kitchen. He kept dropping bowls and measuring cups—the noise was an assault on Gabriel’s ears—and, after struggling with the bag of flour, ended up with it dusted down the his front. Gabriel hummed as he fried up bacon and eggs, but kept a careful eye on Jesse as he struggled to figure out how to use the waffle maker.

Angela dragged herself downstairs after the third time the fire alarm went off. “I’m glad you’re up,” she mumbled, her voice rough with sleep, “I wanted to discuss today’s plans with you, Commander Reyes.”

“Gabriel,” he said. “Lay it on me.”

Angela collapsed at the kitchen counter. She screeched and scrambled backwards when she touched the sticky mess Jesse had made. “Disgusting,” she huffed, “Now. There’s a butterfly conservatory here. I’ve always wanted to go to one.”

Jesse rolled his eyes. Gabriel shot him a look and he straightened.

“Afterward, there’s a nice restaurant down on the pier—”

Gabriel couldn’t help but zone out. The patio door opened and Jack and Fareeha stumbled inside, both huffing and sweating.

Jack took over the bacon for him. Gabriel leaned against his back, arms wound around his waist. Jesse made a face at him from the table.

He pressed a kiss to the curve of Jack’s shoulder. “You’ll never guess where I’m taking you today.”

“Probably not.”

“It’s no fun if you don’t actually _try,_ ” Gabriel teased.

“Will you two pay attention? You’re burnin’ the bacon,” Jesse growled.

Just to annoy him, Gabriel leaned forward to capture Jack’s lips in a proper kiss. Jack was still underneath him for a long moment before he relaxed. When he pulled back, Jack was smiling. Clearly he’d warmed up to the idea of taking a break.

Gabriel gave him a playful pat on the ass. “Looks good,” he said, “Alright. Let’s see if it’s edible.”

It wasn’t. Gabriel chewed on a rubbery bit of waffle. Jesse grinned at everyone in turns, delighting in their attempts to praise him for his cooking. Damn liars, the lot of them, but the kid was beaming like he’d won the fucking lottery. Gabriel set down his fork when he finally managed to finish the waffle and jabbed Jack in the ribs. “You’d better finish that,” he said, gesturing to Jack’s mostly untouched breakfast.

Jack grumbled as he obeyed, his jaw working hard on the food.

Gabriel shooed the kids away when they were done and set about the task of cleaning up the mess Jesse had made. Jack wiped down the counters and started the dishes. Gabriel put on the radio and they worked around each other in silence.

“So,” Jack finally said, “When’s it coming?”

“When’s what coming?”

Jack shot him a sly look. “The usual pranks.”

“Oh, Jackie,” Gabriel sighed, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jack hummed under his breath and returned to his task.

Gabriel didn’t have anything planned, but it was fun to watch Jack squirm, expecting pranks at every turn. He slipped between Jack and the sink and surprised him with a kiss. Wet rubber gloves slid up to his face. The sharp scent of dish soap would stick to his skin, but who cared, when he had his boyfriend in his arms?

The globs of wet batter, though—that was thoroughly unpleasant, and he pulled away from Jack. “Lose the gloves.”

Jack shucked them off and tossed them into the sink. His hands slid back up to Gabriel’s jaw. “You know,” he said, “Maybe we should listen to Angela.”

Gabriel pressed soft kisses along Jack’s jaw. “Oh?”

“She put together a pretty detailed plan,” Jack sighed, “She’ll be upset if we don’t at least _pretend_ to be interested in—what was it? Naval history museums?”

“Don’t lie to my face, Jackie. You’d love that.”

Jack hummed under his breath before nodding. “Probably. Hey—do you think there’s a golf course on this island?”

Gabriel pulled his lips away from Jack’s neck. “Hell no.”

“We go every year.” Jack practically batted his lashes.

“Yeah, exactly.”

He knew that he was going to end up on the green whether he liked or not, so he grumbled that they could go under his breath and received a hard kiss for his trouble. Gently he pushed Jack away. “Kitchen’s clean enough. Give me a hand packing lunches, will you?”

Jack cocked an eyebrow.

“They’re for the kids.”

“They aren’t kids,” Jack muttered. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Great. I hate surprises.”

-

He shoved the kids into the car close to noon. Their bodyguards followed in an unmarked black minivan, but Gabriel wasn’t really worried about security. It had been surprisingly easy to sweep the island, and no one had recognized Jack as Strike Commander Morrison. Gabriel figured it was the glasses; he refused to wear them in public.

Out of the uniform blues he seemed happy, lighter. Gabriel reached over the console to hold his hand.

Scout climbed up and over Jesse in the back seat, smearing drool down the windows.

“So,” Jesse said, “We goin’ to the bar?”

“Jesse, it’s eleven in the morning and Fareeha’s sixteen.”

Jesse shrugged. “So?”

Angela snorted and hid her face behind a hand. Jesse glowered at her. Fareeha seemed pleased enough, stuck in the middle.

Gravel crunched under the tires as they pulled into the marina. Boats groaned against the docks. Flocks of bird cried overhead, dark crescent shapes against the perfect blue sky. Nice to look at, but the moment the doors were open and the smell hit him, he scrunched up his nose.

Flip-flops weren’t ideal for the loose gravel under his feet and he nearly lost his footing as he rounded the car to the trunk.

“Hey, Jesse, give me a hand.”

Jesse helped him haul the coolers out of the trunk. Excitement got the better of him, and he dropped them on the ground to chase after Fareeha, thudding down the dock and swinging onto other people’s boats. Gabriel started toward the little bait-and-tackle shack on the other side of the parking lot. Jack’s eyes lit up like he was a kid on Christmas. “Have I told you today that I love you?”

“Nope.”

“Well, I love you.” Jack bumped against his arm. The coolers in his grasp swung into Gabriel’s knees. He pressed a quick kiss to Gabriel’s temple. “You hate going out on the water.”

“It’s shallow around here,” Gabriel said. Sure, he’d spent countless hours of his youth at the beach, but that was with his feet in the sand, not on a boat. The damn things never failed to make him sick. He figured the shallow water would be steadier, but he’d packed gravol just in case.

Gabriel traded money for fishing rods and tackle and thanked the cashier. The rental boat was probably a tight squeeze for the lot of them. Scout circled the kids, tail wagging wildly. Gabriel gave her a good scratch behind the ears before squatting down to pass the coolers into the boat.

“Fishin’? Jesse muttered, “Really, Pops?”

“What did you think we were doing out here?” Gabriel clucked his tongue. He hobbed down onto the boat and pulled bright orange life jackets out from under the bench.

Jesse held it loosely in his hands. “Ain’t my color, Pops.”

“That’s a shame.”

Gabriel needed Jack’s help to get the motor started. Clear water rippled pleasantly behind them. Cool air slipped past his face and over his bald head, the heat of the sun warm against his skin. Fareeha leaned over the side of the boat to trail her fingers in the water. Jesse couldn’t sit still, and neither could the dog, and they kept rocking the boat. Angela complained loudly, her head stuck in a book.

Dozens of boats lingered out on the beautiful waters around them. They kept close to the shore, their boat too small to venture out too far. The water was so clear he could see straight to the sandy bottom.

Flanked with the island to their right, and with the midday sun overhead, Gabriel felt a warmth bubble up under his skin. Switzerland—Overwatch—felt like it was a hundred years in the past.

“Looks like a good spot up there,” Jack said. The wind ruffled through his hair, showing the gray at his roots. Gabriel kept one hand on the handle of the outboard motor and wound an arm around Jack’s waist, pulling him flush against his side.

“Knew I brought you for a reason,” Gabriel teased.

Jack tucked one hand under his chin and kissed him slowly, softly.

“Look!” Angela threw her book up in the air. By some miracle it landed back in the boat. “Those trees? See them? They’re mangroves. Lots of species of fish and crustaceans use them as nurseries—”

“Someone say crustaceans?” Jesse flopped across the bench onto Angela’s lap, pinching her in the ribs, and she screeched, jerking out from underneath him. Scout bounded over the bench to her rescue, licking up at her face, and Angela dragged herself across the boat to escape.

“Might have been a bad idea to bring the dog,” Jack mumbled.

“I’m hungry,” Jesse whined, “Can we go back to the crab shack for dinner?”

“Please, no. I’m never eating shellfish again,” Fareeha groaned.

Jack pointed them toward a small inlet, and Gabriel let the engine idle as they pulled under a slip of shade. Dark shapes moved in the water. Scout put her paws up on the boat and watched, rapt with attention. Gabriel smoothed a hand over her head. “Don’t jump in, unless it’s to rescue our cowboy. Got it?”

Scout gave him a nuzzle and licked the palm of his hand before bounding across the boat. Gabriel wiped his hand on Jack’s shorts.

“Ass,” Jack muttered.

Fareeha let out a small, excited gasp and a plunked a hand into the water. “It’s so clear. Who needs a rod? I’ll catch one with my bare hands.”

Jesse scoffed. “I’d like to see you try.”

“I’ll show you.”

Angela sat back, one hand on her big sun hat, the other on the edge of the boat. “Sunscreen,” she muttered.” She reached under the bench for her bag and pulled out an array of tubes. SPF 100, all of them. “Let’s start with you, Strike Commander.”

Jack’s mouth straightened into a fine line. He hated the title, and Gabriel figured he was even more uncomfortable because he was out of the damn uniform. Angela did seem to catch on to his stiff stance, which didn’t surprise Gabriel at all.

She shoved the tube at him. “Strike Commander?”

“We have first names, Angela,” Gabriel said.

Her smile faded into a pout. “Oh, I’m sorry, John.”

Gabriel could almost _feel_ Jack’s stomach plummet to the bottom of the boat. He smoothed a hand down Jack’s back and waited for Angela to turn away to whisper, “Breathe.”

He reached back to turn the engine off. Left alone with the lapping of the water and the chatter of the kids, he could hear Jack trying to bring in half-breaths. He trailed his hand down Jack’s spine, slowly, evenly, until a smile sprang back to his face.

Gabriel reached for a rod. “Alright. Get your asses over here.”

Big, owlish eyes watched him as Gabriel struggled to figure out how to work a fishing rod. He cursed and swore under his breath, much to Jesse’s amusement, as he tried—and failed—to hook a worm. The thing was damn slippery and kept arching back up to escape the hook, and Gabriel didn’t have as much desire to fish as it had to live.

“Here.” Jack held out his hands and Gabriel passed it over. The worm wiggled and squirmed between Jack’s thumb and forefinger. “You guys watching?”

The kids scrambled to fetch their rods. Jesse pulled a long, thick worm from the bucket and stuck out his tongue. “Looks tasty.”

“I’ll pay you ten dollars to eat that,” Fareeha said.

“Make it a hundred, and I want to see the money first.”

“C’mon, you know I’m good for it,” Fareeha whined.

“That’s disgusting,” Angela huffed, “Jesse, surely you aren’t considering.”

“It’s a lot of money,” Jesse said. He lifted the worm high over his head, a wicked grin on his lips, watching it squirm.

Jack leaned over to put his face in his hands. Gabriel patted him on the shoulder. “Fifty bucks, Jesse,” he said, “And I’ll let you run Blackwatch recruit training for a week.”

“Gabriel, are you serious—”

Gabriel whipped out his phone and hit record in time for Jesse to scream “Deal!” and tip his head back, showing molars. Angela screeched as the big, pink worm disappeared inside his mouth.

He clamped his mouth shut and looked awfully smug and proud of himself, until he realized he had to swallow. In a swift movement he was hanging out over the edge of the boat, blowing out the worm and what was left of his breakfast.

Gabriel snorted. The snort turned into a chuckle, and the chuckle became gut-busting laughter. Jesse was green as hell and Fareeha wouldn’t let him live it down.

“Alright,” Jack muttered, “Anyone feel like fishing?”

Gabriel zoned out as Jack returned to his task of teaching the kids how to hook a worm and sent the video to Ana. It was probably an ungodly hour in China, but her response was lightning-fast.

_Just what I wanted to wake up to in the middle of the night._

_It was Fareeha’s idea._

_Frankly, I am shocked and appalled_ , Ana replied.

Gabriel tucked his phone away and stretched out, warm and content under the sun. Jack cast out first. Angela and Fareeha followed, but Jesse sprawled out on the bench, hat tipped down to hide his eyes from the sun.

“Hey, Jesse,” he said, “You ever gone fishing before?”

“No-pe.” Jesse popped the word. “Ain’t my thing.”

Gabriel shifted across the boat and took Jesse’s abandoned fishing rod. He really had no idea what he was doing, but he cast it out into the water anyway and watched the line sink through crystal clear water. “Hey, Jack,” he said, twisting around, “Catch us dinner yet?”

“Fuck off,” Jack said, voice warm and affectionate.

“Well.” Gabriel turned back to shove the rod into Jesse’s hands, partly because he had no personal interest in fishing, and partially because it seemed right. He wasn’t Jesse’s father, and maybe it wasn’t his place, but Jesse had missed out on so much of his childhood. Fishing with your old man was a time-honored tradition, or so he’d heard; he’d never gone with his father, personally. “First time for everything, cowboy.”

He was probably overthinking it. Jesse wasn’t a ten-year old boy, after all, but a twenty-one year old black ops agent.

Jesse took it reluctantly. “Got any pointers?”

“Nope.”

“Great.” Jesse moved the fishing rod between his hands, eyes on the line out in the water. His hat slid down until it hit the bridge of his nose.

“Jesse?”

“Hmm?”

“Try to have fun, will you?”

“That an order, boss?”

“A request.”

Gabriel slipped back to his spot by the engine. Jack was grinning boyishly, offering quiet pointers and yammering on about fishing trips with his grandfather. Angela was entertaining him, but Fareeha had chucked the rod aside and had her hands back in the water, loose, open fingers straining for fish. He’d give _her_ a month’s worth of Blackwatch recruit training if she could catch one with her bare hands, protocol be damned.

-

Jack was the only one to catch anything in the two hours they were out on the still waters, and Angela talked him into letting the thing go. Gabriel called for lunch and they settled down, rods abandoned. Angela picked at the food. Jesse inhaled his and started stealing from hers, but she didn’t offer complaints. Gabriel figured she was judging him for his inability to cook or his total lack of vegetables.

Angela settled with her damn portfolio on her lap. “If we book now we can still make it for a sunset cruise,” she said, “And the local Hemingway house is open until—”

“Hey, Angie,” Jesse drawled, “Let’s make it a bar night.”

Angela scoffed, throwing up a tuft of light blonde hair. “Please.”

“Just so long as you take a cab,” Gabriel grunted, “I’m not picking you up drunk, and neither are our guards. They deserve to sleep, too.”

Angela seemed mortified by the prospect, and withered under the warm sun. “No, no. We couldn’t possibly. There’s so much to do and see here and I want to fit everything in.”

“Gettin’ drunk ain’t on your list?” Jesse tugged the itinerary out of her hands. Angela squawked and flailed after him.

“Give that back.”

Jesse flipped through the pages as he leaned away from her hands. “Bo-o-o-ring. Fine, I’ll go by myself.”

“No, you won’t,” Gabriel said.

“Okay, no, I won’t.” Jesse flopped back, crunching down on top of empty potato chip bags. “C’mon, someone? What about you, _Uncle Jack_?” He mimicked Fareeha’s voice and earned a light punch on the arm.

“He can’t,” Gabriel said, “We’ve got plans.”

“We do?”

“It’s a surprise, Jackie.”

Jack rolled his eyes before settling back to pack up the coolers. “Dork.”

“Love you too.”

Jack got the engine started and Gabriel let him drive the boat back along the vibrant shore. The afternoon was half over, and Angela voiced her complaints about their wasted day on the trip back to the docks. Jesse still looked a little green from his adventure with the worm. Scout put her nose into the wind, her red hair yellow under the sun.

They pulled the boat into the dock. Jesse jumped out to bring them in, and Jack killed the engine. He hadn’t gotten sick, and the kids had managed to get along, but most importantly Jack had relaxed. Gabriel hopped out and offered a hand to help them out, one by one. “Alright,” he said, “Who’s up for ice cream?”

Angela huffed. “Please,” she muttered, “Could we have some fresh fruit? Vegetables, perhaps?”

“Lame,” Fareeha whined.

Scout skittered down the dock, leaving them to catch up. Jesse ambled up beside Fareeha. Gabriel saw trouble gleam in Jesse’s eyes, but before he could intercept them, Jesse stuck his finger in his mouth and then into Fareeha’s ear.

She screeched and leapt to the side, knocking shoulders with Jack. He stumbled toward the edge of the dock, and Gabriel’s stomach plummeted as he almost fell down into the foam-covered water. He hit a post instead, and his glasses flew off his face. They landed with a _plop_ down below.

“Woah,” Jesse muttered, “I didn’ mean for that to happen, I swear.”

Jack wrapped his arms around the post, staring hard into the water.

Gabriel put a hand on Jesse’s shoulder to move him out of the way. “Chin up, Sunshine,” he said.

“It’ll take at least a day to get a new prescription made,” Jack mumbled, “I really liked that pair.”

“Worry not.” Gabriel knelt down beside Jack and thumped a hand down on his shoulder. Jack lifted his bright eyes, confused and searching his expression.

He pulled off his sunglasses and set them on top of the post before unbuttoning his shirt.

“Uh, Pops?” Jesse muttered, “This ain’t really the place.”

Gabriel tossed his shirt at him, then his keys, then his wallet.

The water was frothy and smelled absolutely _rotten_ , but damn it, Jack was going to get his glasses back.

He really needed to get contacts.

Gabriel lowered himself down on the dock. He had no idea how shallow it was, but he had a general idea of where the glasses had landed. The water was colder than it looked, and a shiver rolled through his body.

“You, uh, don’t have to do this,” Jack said, “I’ll get a new pair. It’s not a big deal.”

“Really, Strike Commander, you shouldn’t be wearing such things anyway,” Angela chirped. “I could arrange for laser eye surgery. I’ve told you before—”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Angela—”

There was no stopping her once she started, and Jack started to wilt. It had all be said before, and he always refused.

“—There’s still genetic therapy, if you would rather avoid surgery,” Angela pressed, “There’s no need to struggle with poor vision these days. What do you say? I could have a regiment together for you next week, if you wanted to begin—”

“No, thank you,” Jack mumbled.

Gabriel let go of the dock. Cold water swallowed him. The foam stuck to his head. There were grass clippings stuck in it, and it stunk like gasoline and rotting fish. Thoroughly unpleasant. Ah, the things he did for love.

His feet brushed the bottom of the marina. That much was promising.

“Strike Commander, you need to take better care of yourself,” Angela huffed. “You’re only thirty-eight years old. There’s no reason _not_ to accept. Think of your future.”

Gabriel glanced back at Jack. He was focused somewhere past him; either he was disassociating or he couldn’t see out to where Gabriel was in the water. “He said no, Angela.”

“But—”

“Drop it.”

She stomped down the dock, one hand on her head and the other tucked around her portfolio. Gabriel drew in a long, deep breath before dunking his head underwater. He felt along the bottom, the cold dragging against his skin along with tendrils of what he hoped was seaweed.

Super soldier, sure, but he couldn’t hold his breath long and burst above water, gasping for breath.

“Gabriel?” Jack leaned down over the edge of the dock, squinting into the water. “Are you okay? You don’t have to do this.”

“It’s nothing,” was all Gabriel said before he ducked back underwater.

He felt along the bottom of the marina with both hands. Slowly his eyes adjusted until he could pick out rounded glass, but it was just littered beer bottles. A plastic bag pushed against his hand and he jerked away, losing a gulp of precious air and tasting the disgusting water. What was it about marinas that was so gross? The sea itself had been so pure and clean. He clamped down on the urge to breathe and pulled himself along the bottom, feet kicking up above the surface. The car would stink for the rest of the week, most likely, thanks to him.

When he lifted above the water for breath, the kids were gone and Jack was sitting on the edge, bare feet dangling above the water. “Gabriel,” he mumbled, “Come out. Let’s go back.”

“Ah, but I’m already wet,” Gabriel said, “Might as well finish what I started.”

Jack pulled his eyes away, mouth worried into a frown. “They’re just glasses.”

Gabriel dove back under the water with renewed fervor. He pushed his hands against bottles and garbage and gravel, pulled himself through water that had no right to be so damn cold, until his hand brushed against something flat and cold. Long, thin pieces of metal, two rectangular lenses.

He burst above the water, flailing for the edge of the dock, glasses held high over his head. Jack scrambled to his feet and reached down to help him up. He felt ten kilograms heavier, and was cold as a block of ice, but he grinned despite the shiver that racked his body. “Check that out, Jackie!”

Jack swept him up in his arms and kissed him hard. Gabriel stumbled backwards, catching onto the post to keep his balance.

He probably stank. He was cold and wet and disgusting but Jack didn’t pull away. Hands cupped either side of his face, tipping him backward, but he refused to open his mouth, thinking about the mouthful of marina water he’d sucked in.

Jack pulled back abruptly, a flush painting his cheeks red. “Sorry,” he mumbled, “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me.” Gabriel leaned down for his abandoned shirt and dried off his glasses before sliding them onto Jack’s nose. “Now…about tonight…”

“I thought it was a surprise?”

Gabriel twisted one arm around Jack’s waist. The kids were up by the van, looking bored and impatient. “I’m not sure they’ll let me into the restaurant now.”

“Ever heard of a shower?”

“Oh, shove it, Farm Boy.”

-

Gabriel took an hour and wasted an entire bar of soap trying to work the smell off himself. Downstairs he could hear Fareeha and Jesse arguing over something, and, quieter, Jack’s attempts to calm the both of them. He ran his hands over his goatee. There were faint traces of gray at the roots. He smoothed a palm over his shaved head, then down the front of his shirt. Black button-up, dark red tie. Probably would end up too hot, even if it was October. The dress pants were probably too much, but Jack wouldn’t tease him for getting out of his usual clothes.

He hummed as he walked down the stairs. Things had settled; the kids were curled up on the couch together in their pajamas. The pizza Jack had ordered for them was nothing more than crumbs in the box.

“Alright, Blondie,” he said, “Reservation’s for seven.”

Jack grinned at him as he adjusted the cuffs of his white shirt.

“And you lot,” Gabriel said, pointing at each kid in turn, “Try to have fun, will you? And keep the dog off the couch.”

Scout skittered past him and, upon hearing the request, leapt up on top of Jesse.

Whatever. It wasn’t his house, anyway.

He slid an arm around Jack’s waist and walked him toward the front door. Jack smoothed his hands down Gabriel’s chest, mouth tucked up in a smile. “You look good,” he sighed, “Really good. You, uh…sure you don’t want to stay in?”

“I made _reservations_.”

Jack leaned in close to his ear, breath fanning warm against his skin. He tugged on Gabriel’s tie, teasing, playful. “So?”

“I went through all the trouble of getting dressed up and _you_ just want to take my clothes off—” Jack’s laughter buzzed in his ear. Gabriel pushed Jack away, grinning despite himself. “I’m starving.”

Jack let his tie go and followed, his cheeks tinted pink.

Gabriel drove and Jack offered directions. His stomach was already growling, thinking about a big steak, a glass of red wine, and maybe some lobster. When was the last time they’d gone on a proper date, just the two of them, uninterrupted? Gabriel racked his mind for an answer. It might have been exactly a year prior, on their trip to Montréal.

He parked the car a short way down the street from the restaurant. The sun hovered over the edge of the buildings, painting the streets in orange and red. Jack reached for his hand and lifted it to his mouth, laying a kiss against his palm.

“Sap,” Gabriel grunted.

“That’s me.”

Gabriel let his fingers twine loosely with his as they walked down the street. There was a pleasant rustle to the crowds; not too many people, but not so few that it was a ghost town. It felt easy, Jack talking quietly at his side, walking slow, neither in a rush. It felt like old times, like memories that usually only bubbled to the surface when he was missing Jack, separated by time or circumstance.

Gabriel held open the restaurant door for Jack. “After you.”

The restaurant had a nice sound to it; the clink of glasses, the ebb and flow of conversation, soft music. It smelled rich and Gabriel’s stomach growled. Everything was dark, polished wood, lit by dim, orange lights. Classy as hell.

A tall waiter swept by the front counter.

“Morrison-Reyes,” Gabriel said. The waiter gave a nod as he gathered menus and beckoned for them to follow.

“Morrison-Reyes, huh?” Jack’s hand squeezed tight around his. “Not the other way around?”

“Doesn’t roll off the tongue the same.”

Their waiter led them to a small, square table under the window. Jack waited for Gabriel to sit before he mirrored him. Gabriel ordered a glass of red, and Jack asked for a beer. Gabriel rolled his eyes the moment the waiter left for the bar. “Come on, Blondie. Look at this place. And you ordered a Boston lager?”

“It’s my favorite,” Jack muttered.

“Never change, Jack.”

The wine was excellent. The appetizers were better. Gabriel popped shrimp into his mouth, grinning across the table at Jack. He was still a little flushed, pink tinted across his cheeks.

Jack hadn’t pulled out his phone once.

“When’s the last time we did this?” Gabriel asked, dunking more shrimp into marinara. “I’ve been trying to remember.”

Jack’s brow scrunched. “What, gone out for dinner?”

“Gone on a date, Sunshine.”

Jack grinned at the nickname. His hand slid away from his beer and touched the back of Gabriel’s, slightly damp and cold. “Ages.” Jack paused, his lopsided grin faded into a small, sweet smile. “Assuming you’re not counting parties and nights in and missions—”

“Just the two of us,” Gabriel said.

Jack traced his index finger along Gabriel’s knuckles, pausing over the small, faded scars. “Hey, you remember our first real date?”

“How could I ever forget?”

Jack’s cheeks darkened. He ran his free hair back into his hair. He’d combed it down and now it sprang up, aching for freedom.

It had been a Friday night, almost a year before the Crisis was officially declared over. They were preparing for an assault on one of the last active Omniums on the west coast. Debriefs had stretched on for two weeks longer than scheduled, and they were itching on base in San Diego, waiting for the go-ahead. Torbjörn had been busy upgrading Reinhardt’s armor, and refused the invitation to head out into the city for drinks. Ana had flown Fareeha in, and her answer was the same. Liao hadn’t given a yes or a no. Jack was the only one to meet him at the bar.

It had been a happy accident, really, just the two of them knocking back drinks. Their metabolisms didn’t make it easy to get drunk, but a faint pink sheen had spread across Jack’s face and the tips of his ears. Gabriel remembered keeping his voice low, half-worried that someone would overhear. _Hey, Jack,_ he’d whispered, _I think this might be our first date_.

 _I still think we should count that night in Munich_ , Jack had said.

_We almost died that night._

_Well_ , Jack had mumbled, _I’m not saying it was an_ ideal _first date_.

He’d touched Jack’s hand under the bar, just a slight press, but the contact had his heart pounding and his nerves singing. Being out with him, in public, just the two of them—it had felt _normal_. It felt like a piece of the future they’d planned, a future threatened by war and rank and responsibilities; like a piece of the future they so often discussed during the still, quiet hours of the night, tangled up in each others arms despite the regulations telling them they couldn’t be together.

They’d walked back to base so close together they bumped shoulders. They took the elevator to their dorms together and instead of parting ways, Jack had followed him to his room, pushed him through the door, and kissed him so softly that it had left him breathless.

He’d felt everything Jack had trouble saying in that kiss. _I love you. I want to be with you. You mean everything to me._

Jack’s thumb ran over his knuckles, dragging him back to the present. “This is really nice,” he said, “I didn’t know how much I needed it.”

“Told you we just needed a little distance,” Gabriel said.

Jack’s eyes dropped to the table, suddenly solemn, somber. “I should have listened to you,” he said, “We should have made time.”

“We have time now. Let’s make the most of it, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Jack’s hand squeezed over his, then pulled back to his beer. Their waiter returned, wearing a smooth smile.

Gabriel ordered a steak and lobster tail, medium rare. Angela wasn’t there to tell him to watch his cholesterol. Jack asked for fish—the local catch of the day was mahi mahi—and he started talking in a low whisper once the waiter was out of earshot. “Do you think they’re behaving?”

He dropped his shrimp in the glass of marinara and watched it sink to the bottom. “You’re worried about the kids?” Gabriel lifted a brow. “They can handle a night in.”

“About—” Jack pushed a hand up into his hair, upsetting his glasses. “Torbjörn and Reinhardt, actually.”

“I don’t want to talk about work, Jack,” Gabriel said. “Or Europe or Overwatch or—”

“Rein was hiding something.” Jack stared down the neck of his beer bottle, mouth worried into a frown. “I know it. He’s a terrible liar.”

The waiter came back to bring Gabriel another glass of wine. He didn’t touch it. “Jack, he’s more than capable of handling your job for a few days.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “On his own, sure.”

“You're worried about Torbjörn?”

“The one and only.” Jack gulped down the rest of his beer before pulling out his phone. “Just a quick call—”

“Don’t do it, Jack,” Gabriel warned. He smiled to offset the tone of his voice, and Jack grinned back. “What’s the worst he could be up to?”

“He’s converted my office into a bar,” Jack suggested, “He’s diverted funds to start an Overwatch circus division.”

“He’s commissioned a giant bronze statue of himself to sit on the front lawn in Zürich.”

Jack snorted and slapped a hand over his mouth. “You think Reinhardt would get a statue to match?”

“Of course. Two peas in a pod.” Gabriel sipped his wine before another idea came to mind. “The Reinhardt statue is benchpressing Torbjörn’s.”

“A thing of beauty,” Jack mused, “It’s better than the one of me they put up.”

Gabriel pulled his eyes away. “Right.”

Jack slumped down on his elbows. “I shouldn’t have brought that up.”

“You didn’t ask for it.”

“Should have been you,” Jack said, “One in every city you saved.”

Gabriel shook his head slowly. It would have been embarrassing as hell. “I was just doing my job,” he muttered, “You know. Like you did.”

They didn’t avoid the topic of the promotion so much as they danced around it. Years had gone by and softened the sting. No one had forgotten his role in the Omnic Crisis; he was just fading from common memory. Almost forty years old. Maybe by the time he was ready to retire, he’d actually be able to walk down the streets of Los Angeles anonymously. It was a peaceful thought.

They didn’t talk about their old plans anymore, either.

Jack offered more playful suggestions, but Gabriel just nodded along, his mind a thousand miles away.

The waiter returned with their meals, but Gabriel’s appetite had faded, and he picked at his steak.

Gabriel’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Ana was awake, and messages popped up on his phone, rapid-fire. _How is the weather? How are you? Is my daughter behaving?_ Gabriel chuckled, Ana’s chatter an instant mood-lifter. _I’m tired of meetings. Wish I could be there with you guys._

_Miss you too, Ana._

“Who is that?” Jack asked through a mouthful of fish.

“Ana.”

“Tell her I said hi.”

_Jack says hi._

_If he misses me he can text me himself._

_Nope, he’s banned from his phone._

Across the table, Jack’s phone buzzed. Big blue eyes locked on Gabriel. Silence, then the phone buzzed again. Gabriel knew that it was Ana, and that she was probably having fun torturing them from the other side of the world.

Jack fidgeted in his seat. “Fourteen messages.”

Gabriel snorted. “Don’t you dare look at it, Blondie,” he teased.

Jack set it down on the table, screen down, where it buzzed against the dark stained wood. He picked up his fork and set back to work on his fish. The phone moved toward the edge of the table.

“Could be trouble,” Jack mumbled, “Could be Fareeha. Or Jesse. Maybe they went out to the bar after all.”

Gabriel shook his head slowly. “Ah, but my phone is so quiet.”

“You never know,” Jack mumbled, “Could have accidentally deleted your number.”

“Mmm, could happen.”

“The cottage is on fire,” Jack suggested, “Jesse tried to make cereal.” He paused to chew his food, a smile cracking slowly across his face. “Fareeha shaved off Angela’s eyebrows. Scout ate Jesse’s hat and needs a vet. Uh, Angela is making prank calls to…” Jack trailed off, staring up at the ceiling. “…no, she’s TV shopping with your credit card.”

“Buying collectible porcelain figurines.”

“The creepy baby ones.”

Jack’s phone buzzed with a call, cutting him off. Jack reached for it, but Gabriel beat him.

Reinhardt.

“I’ll take it,” Gabriel said. He pressed it against his ear, tongue stuck out at a flustered and annoyed Jack. “Hey big guy.”

“HELLO MY FRIEND!”

Gabriel jerked the phone away from his ear, but it was too late for his eardrum.

“IT’S BEEN SO QUIET HERE WITHOUT YOU,” Reinhardt yelled, “NOT THAT THERE IS ANYTHING TO WORRY ABOUT! WHY WOULD THERE BE?”

There was a faint metallic buzz in the background. “Reinhardt, where are you calling from?”

“JACK’S OFFICE,” he roared, “WHY DO YOU ASK?”

“No reason, Rein.”

“COULD YOU PUT JACK ON THE LINE, MY FRIEND?”

Jack lunged across the table for the phone. Gabriel held him back with one hand. “He’s occupied. Ate too much lobster. Doesn’t agree with him.”

“What the hell, Gabriel?” Jack hissed.

“IS HE ALRIGHT?”

“Been in there awhile,” Gabriel snickered, “Sounds like he’s dying.”

Jack fell back in his chair, wiping his hands down his face. “God, that’s horrible.”

“MY POOR FRIEND,” Reinhardt said, “TELL HIM I SAID HELLO AND NOT TO WORRY ABOUT ANYTHING. THINGS ARE MARVELOUS HERE IN SWITZERLAND! RIGHT, TORBJÖRN?”

“Oh, er, of course,” a quiet voice said, “Would you hand me that saw—”

“AHAHA, TIME TO GO! ENJOY YOUR VACATION, MY FRIENDS!”

The line went dead. Gabriel set it down beside his plate. “I think you were right on the money,” he said, “They’re building a bar in your office.”

“Oh, great.”

-

They shared a slice of key lime pie for dessert—it was too tart for Jack, much to Gabriel’s benefit—and walked down the street arm in arm. The sun had fully set, leaving them alone under a canopy of streetlights and stars. Music swam out from bars and restaurants along the road. Distant he could hear the quiet rush of the ocean. Jack was beaming from ear to ear. Who knew all he had to do to get Jack to lighten up was take him fishing?

Gabriel was wondering where there were good spots to fish in Zürich when Jack let out a soft gasp. “This is our song,” he said.

He strained to listen. Down by the docks a live band was playing for a group of people. He stopped, trying to piece the words together. Jack did the work for him. “Good Vibrations,” he whispered, “You know! By the Beach Boys?”

“This is _not_ one of our songs,” Gabriel snorted.

Jack pulled on his arm, his head bobbing back and forth. “It reminds me of you.”

“I’m offended.”

“Dance with me.” Jack swayed on his feet, tugging on his sleeve, a wide grin on his face. “Come on, Gabriel.”

Gabriel slipped out of Jack’s grasp and stepped off the sidewalk to cross the street. “No way, Blondie. You know I don’t dance.”

“Neither do I,” Jack said, chasing after him to lace their fingers together. “Come on, humor me.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes, but slipped an arm around Jack’s waist anyway. “I ever tell you you’re a hopeless romantic?”

“About a thousand times,” Jack sighed. “And you’re one to talk.”

Jack swayed against him. Neither of them knew a damn thing about dancing. Put them out on the battlefield together and they were an unstoppable synchronized force, but this? Gabriel laughed softly as he put his hands on Jack’s waist, middle-school style. Jack’s toothy grin was worth it. “You’re cute,” he sighed.

“Kiss me?”

“You have to ask?”

Jack leaned down. His lips were soft, the kiss slow. Fingers traced along Gabriel’s jaw, then threaded through his hair, both hands meeting behind Gabriel’s head to hold him close. Gabriel tipped his head to catch a taste of key lime pie on Jack’s tongue. It was always hard to breathe when Jack kissed him like that, and Gabriel could feel time slip away, meaningless. The song ended, and Jack kissed him through the next. He was dizzy with it, his heart kicking up pace. When Jack finally pulled away he was breathless and stumbled against the curb.

“Let’s go back,” Jack said, “I want to get you out of that shirt.”

“I thought you liked the shirt?”

Jack rolled his eyes hard. There was a deep flush to his skin that the darkness couldn’t hide, and Gabriel hurried them down the street and into the car. He might have broken the speed limit on the way back to the cottage, only because Jack had his hand on his leg and his lips on his neck and it was all _very_ distracting. They stumbled up to the cottage door, Jack’s mouth on his, Gabriel fumbling for the keys. Jack palmed under his shirt, warm hand running up his back, fingernails dragging down his spine—

Smoke.

He and Jack noticed the smell at the same time and split, blinking and breathing hard. Gabriel whipped the keys out and practically broke the lock on the door. “What the hell is going on,” he yelled, “Jesse—Fareeha—”

Fareeha froze. She had a kitchen towel in her grasp. Jesse was on a chair playing with the fire alarm. Angela’s shirt was blackened.

“Okay.” Gabriel sucked in a deep breath. “I’m only gonna ask once,” he said, “And I’d better get the truth on the first try.”

The three of them waited, eyes stuck wide, trembling slightly.

“ _Which one of you set Angela on fire_?!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kicked me in the shins and stole my lunch money. I don't actually know what I'm doing.  
> Thanks for reading!  
> anna-droid.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> anna-droid.tumblr.com


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